Today will be different. Morning rain softens, and hope rises. I must capture the entire hazy brown form before it fades. Arms around me tighten, tease, but I break free. This is for him. He hands me a mug, and I turn away. He said the essay should be about her. Her name is Poudre, for the river in Colorado where we first met. The name refers to a cache of gunpowder hidden along its banks, but to us it just means clear water over stone. Each day begins with a ritual: She shakes her head and jingles her collar as I reach for the railing. Descending, I hear a clicking little dance below. Her breath is heavy and I open the front door. She leaps out into the garden, I tell her to stay with me today, but she is already gone. Out of sight, she is galloping down the lane. She is our heart: blood up, out of hand, out ahead. I walk on slowly, looking for the first pure light of morning. She waits for me there, and I check on the flowers. Soon, I tell her it is time to go. She turns, picks up the paper, and trots slowly now, back towards the house. I smile and sigh and follow her back. Through the front door, she heads straight for his waiting feet. She plops the paper down proudly and turns to me. Now it is time for breakfast. …show more content…
Jeff stepped out of the car doubtfully on that first day. The face was plain, green, and colonial, and the garage held only one car. This was hardly the house of his dreams. The boys, however, did not hesitate. Slamming doors, they ran across the yard and began playing among the six stately columns of a giant poplar tree. Before long, weekends and vacations were spent cutting limbs and vines and pulling holly stumps. Now there is an endless play of light and shade. The breeze lifts, leaves dance, treetops sway, and I can
Rugged River Rapids In the rugged river rapids, The salmon slowly swim. Four years in the ocean,
While we sat in our rambling tan and yellow cabin among the trees at 416 Spencer Falls Lane at Big Bear Lake, we watched the gloomy rain fall all morning long. Finally, the storm passed and the dark gray clouds passed over, the sun shone brightly on the wet grass. Yes, the day soon was as pleasant as any other august day, of course we knew it was frequently the case with a warm summer rain. This time, however, the rain had swelled the river washed away our small wooded bridge. Elaine my youngest sister sat beside the washed out bridge, she was so unhappy because it was loss. It was then that a shiny blue convertible drove up beside her, the four of us, our names are: William, Martina, Ella and David, watched as the car approached, it was around
I also wrote about "Once More to the Lake", but I enjoy long descriptive sentences. When you read your chosen sentence, did it give you a feeling or, bring you back to a moment in your past? When I read that sentence, it brings me back to laying on the beach smelling the the salty air and listening to the
Oh, it has been a month. So much has happened. A couple hundred miles into our trip, we looked ahead and say a long line of people. It was the kansas river. When we got up close we could see what the people were doing. One by one the wagons would cross the river. We were thinking about just walking across, the water was only like 2.5 feet deep. We decided it wasn't worth the risk and waited in line. When it was our turn we gave them $1 and started moving across. The river was only about 200 yards across. When we got across we looked back and saw that some people tried crossing without using the fairy. They were stuck. While we waited for the rest of our train we watched them trying to get unstuck. They managed to get out but there wagon and
Hey, its me carbon, it's nice up here in the atmosphere. Been here for 21 years now. I've gotten along well with the nitrogen and oxygen up here. However i've heard that the colorado river is nice this time of year. Just gonna go and dizolve myself into the beautiful colorado. The locals are nice here too in the hydrosphere.
In my school I am part of a community service group called start something, we help people in our community who are not as fortunate, or help clean in our community to keep our city beautiful. My first community service event was the Spicket River cleanup, the Spicket River is a small river that goes through Lawrence. The river goes through many parts of Lawrence, some people’s trash ends up in the river,[every year I look forward to this event to help the environment and my community] this is why every year I look forward to participating in The Spicket River Cleanup.
East Coast is known for so many different things; people, history, fashion, stores, and heritage. But the most recent trend is desserts. Desserts can be sweet, savory, healthy or unhealthy. Desserts make people feel happy especially east coasters.
When I got back, my tub water was almost all over the place. I turn my water off and took off all my school clothes and put them on the counter. Then I put my phone right next to my bath even though it might not be smart. I put my bath salts in the water, then I grab the bath bomb and put my foot in there to check the temperature. Its a tad bit too hot. Both of my feet went in the water and eventually my whole body did. I drop my bath bomb and watch it dissolve which made my bath water turn to a pale pink color. As soon as I lean back, my phone rings. It's my Aunt Jane.
In my arms, my daughter took her last breath. Her once-strong, -lively body was now as frail as those of the elders from our home village. And her eyes—her black, playful eyes—were peacefully closed, never again to open. I listened hopelessly to her mother’s song of mourning, sung in our native Cherokee tongue. Her voice was smooth and soft, but intermittently interrupted by brief sobs. Across from me stood my son—now my only child; his eyes, streaming with tears, focused intently on his dead sister, as if they were willing breath back into her small, lifeless body. Could it be that the shamans were right? Had my family been cursed by our ancestors for leaving our homeland? Should we head home, only to return to land-hungry white
When Willy and Linda purchased their home in Brooklyn, it seemed far removed form the city. Willy was young and strong and he believed he had a future full of success. He and his sons cut the tree limbs that threatened his home and put up a hammock that he would enjoy with his children. The green fields
After the GPS jumping around, trying to find the cache's coordinates, we located the geocache in a crack in some boulders. I know there were pictographs and petroglyphs in the canyon so we continued hiking a bit to try and find them. We didn't go far before high up on the canyon wall I spotted a pictograph. While I knew there was more rock are further into the canyon but we were running low on time and I had another panel I've been looking for the past couple of years. The rest would have to wait for another trip.
I stood on the paddle board looking around the lake. I knew my victory would be short lived. I felt a rock and then a push. I was no longer King of the hill. We all took turns being king of the hill, I was smiling all day long. I knew this would be a day to remember.
My incredible journey as a water molecule began in the frigid river water of the Red Deer River , just off the Rockies . I was simply minding my own business , when WOOSH , a current came and swept me right off of my feet ! I couldn’t control where I was going , I didn’t know what was going on , I had been kidnapped . My attacker dumped me off in some warmer water way farther down . I swam around a little bit, running in to way more fish than I would have seen at home under my rock in the river . It didn’t take me long to realize , I had been dumped into a lake . After more than one run in with some very grabby algae , the weather began to take a turn . Strangely enough , the sun was out. yet , it was raining . I looked up out of the water
I remember a time in my life not too long ago when my family and I went white water rafting for the first time. We had been spending some of our summer vacation at a cabin in the Smokey Mountains, close to Gatlinburg, Tennessee. The next day we would experience feelings of exhilarating excitement, with a sense of suspense and anticipation as we rafted down the Nantahala River.
My heart was thumping heavily, as the bus took a turn towards the mountains. I didn’t know why I had agreed, but it was too late to turn back.